HoneyFeast
by ThistleL
Summary: She didn’t expect more, just for him to be who he was. Ricky thinks now it’s the honey in her veins that made her think so. It sweetened her.


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Disclaimer: If I owned, things would be much less plastic in the series. :)

And the title is on purpose! Mainly written because of the title and a LwD story wouldn't fit right. :) Prolly OCCness and yes, I took liberty with the characters by adding dimensions to them as well as playing with events. _And I am trying to build a fan base so that when I write my multi chapter fic, I have people interested in my style._ So, if you add as a favorite, please also add as an author alret! I don't care about reviews (they are nice and I love reading them!) but this is more important. :) So tada!

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**HoneyFeast**

Candy had become an addiction of late. The sweet, thick taste of syrup always agrees with Ricky's tongue. Homemade suckers had become a true favorite. The way his tongue licks and sucks the syrup reminds him of the way Amy's skin had tasted under his mouth.

Virgins had a unique taste to them, Ricky realized after Amy. The only reason he had found that they tasted sweeter was because Amy had been his first one. Most of the girls whom he had been with want sex and not the challenge. They had already had enough experience with sex to know that they wanted it.

Like Adrian. Adrian tasted like oranges and clovers, sharp and overwhelming. Ricky would not deny that he loved being with her. He loved the sharp feel of her teeth and nails and how she would seduce him into her bed. Ricky remembers he had many pleasurable dreams about her taste until the mere peeling of an orange made him want to pin her against a wall, but the clovers… It tasted wrong, like biting into a chocolate chip cookie and finding the chips were really mud.

But virgins? They don't seduce.

Like Grace. Grace had never tried to seduce him. She had tried making him fall in love, and he had. Ricky had fallen in love with her vanilla innocence. Ice cream, he remembers, was what her skin and mouth had tasted like. He had been intoxicated for weeks until he became sick of plain vanilla. He could adore vanilla until the end, but he found he could only love it for short spurts of time.

When he hugged her last, Ricky remembers he had smelled sweet honey. Amy's hair smelled of the golden liquid, and her heart seemed to pound into his ribcage and into his own heart. She tasted salty and sweet all at the same time, and he wished insanely he could have one more taste of her in that deserted hallway. Ricky still isn't sure he doesn't want more.

At band camp, he had chased after her because she had been pretty and new like a toy. Ricky remembers asking Lana if she knew the girl in the corner who played the French horn. He had been surprised and even more so when he had introduced himself and she did not scoff and walk away. He laughs now remembering, all the little virgins already warned off from the big bad wolf except for little Red Riding Hood.

Ricky remembers sitting next to her, smelling her lotion. He remembers positioning himself behind her to help her with her piece. He remembers how he chased and Amy the butterfly bobbed just out of his reach. Ricky thinks that is why he was so excited with her to begin with, and why he still is.

Grace had wanted his love. Adrian wanted his love. They both actively pursued it with their different flavored kisses, except his honey flavored Amy did not. She had wanted something else from him, Ricky wasn't sure what exactly. Like at camp, she had been happy with being his friend. And now that she was mother to his son, she only wanted him to be there. She didn't want his love, she wanted him.

Ricky knows this sounds confusing. Hell, he finds it confusing. But the difference was vital to him. She gave him freedom from fruit and beans. She didn't expect more, just for him to be who he was. Ricky thinks now it's the honey in her veins. It sweetens her.

Amy moves so slowly, taking her time with everything. Personally, Ricky thinks that's why she took so long to choose what to do about their son. And while she had moved slowly, she had latched on perfectly, keeping stuck together. Ricky is pleased to note he is also stuck in that glob of stickiness she calls love.

Her personality wasn't the only thing sweet. Her skin… His mouth still water, he craved the honey sticks he carried around when he saw her now. The night he had consumed her made the others bitter in comparison. Ricky remembers spending time kissing every piece of her he could and marking her his with large purple red spots. He just couldn't stop tasting her until he had nearly lost control of his mind.

The girls he was used to being with were one night stands. Moments of fun that he didn't want to take further. Amy had been different. Up until the moment they both left camp, he could be seen nibbling on her and kissing her. Even then she hadn't pushed to be officially his or that he forced to say I love you. It is why Ricky staid longest with her, he knew.

The honey feast is what he desired the most now. His Amy who expected nothing, but everything. His sweet addiction.


End file.
